Because You're Mine(10)

Ciara reached over and grabbed her hand. “Don’t be making any decisions until you hear from Barry. He may have a way out of this. And don’t be thinking I’m saying this because of Ceol. I care about you more than the band.”

Alanna knew her mate spoke the truth. She returned the pressure of Ciara’s fingers. “Good advice.” She nodded toward the building. “We should go in. I still have packing and sorting to do.”

“Want me to help?”

“No, you get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning.” Alanna told Ciara good-bye. When she got to her flat, her cell phone rang. She glanced at it. It was Barry. She put the phone to her ear.

“Cheers,” she said.

His Southern accent held an edge. “Sugar, I just got off the phone with my buddy who works for immigration. The news isn’t good. In most circumstances, there is a three-to five-year permanent residency requirement.”

Alanna exhaled and sank onto the old green sofa. “So that idea’s out. He’ll get my visa revoked, Barry. I know he will.” Tears burned her eyes, and she blinked furiously. She would not cry. Whatever she had to do, she’d do it.

“There’s one way out. I know it will seem a little drastic, but I’m sure it will work.”

Her sinking hope rose. “I’ll do anything to keep my baby. What can I do?”

“Marry me.”

She gaped, then gulped. “I don’t understand.”

“Come here. When the child is born, it will automatically be a citizen. I’ll adopt him and Thomas will have no power over us.”

She clutched the phone. “But why would you do this for me? Tie yourself down like that.”

“Why not? You’re special to me, Alanna. You always have been. It could be a marriage in name only, at least for now. Later—maybe later we’ll find there is more for us as a couple than we can imagine now.”

Her spirit rebelled at the idea of being married to anyone but Liam. “For how long?”

“However long you want it to last,” he said. “I’d like it to be forever, but if you want to be free after Thomas is off your back, I’ll do whatever you want. What do you say?”

“I’ll do it.” She soothed herself with the knowledge the arrangement needn’t last long. Just until her son was safe and Thomas realized he couldn’t control them.





Five


Lass, don’t do this,” Ciara whispered fiercely in Alanna’s ear.

Alanna tugged on the antique wedding gown and tried to summon a smile to reassure her mate. Luckily, the dress had an empire waistline that left plenty of room for her belly. If it fit today, it would still fit tomorrow when the actual ceremony took place. Ena snapped off a series of pictures in quick succession. Her pink hair was all that Alanna could see behind the huge camera and lens.

The last eight weeks since Liam’s funeral had flown by with the speed of a Mark 4 train. She stared at herself in the mirror. Her turquoise eyes were wide with trepidation under the mass of red curls that were tousled yet controlled. The perfect bride for a man from an old Charleston family. All just part of the charade. She was six months along now, and she couldn’t hide her belly under the dress.

“Call it off,” Ciara said. “It’s not too late.”

Alanna turned away from the mirror. Her image depressed her. Through the window, she saw the bay out past the Battery. Through some transformation she didn’t understand, this place had become like home to her. Her hand went to the swell of her belly. “I have no choice if I want to keep my baby.”

“I don’t trust Barry.” Ciara spat the word as though it were the breath mint she hated.

Her mate had hit the roof the minute she heard of Barry’s proposal. Alanna turned her back on Ena’s camera, though no doubt she had already captured their scowls. Tomorrow would be better. She’d pin her smile in place, and no one would guess her heart was breaking.

Ciara gestured from the top of Alanna’s head to her feet. “Look at you. He even picked out the dress. It’s never a thought of your own that you’ll be having now.”

Alanna smoothed the ivory silk. “It’s not a sin to be caring about history and tradition. His grandmother, the Lord rest her soul, wore this. His mother too.”

Ciara sighed, then shrugged her slim shoulders. “I’m wasting my breath.”

Alanna turned away from her friend’s accusing gaze. She heard a knock at the door.

It opened, and Fiona stuck her head into the room. Her blonde hair hung in a shining curtain to her shoulders. “I made something for you.” She stepped into the room and held out an intricate gold necklace.

The pendant—a Celtic cross—caught the light. The center held a garnet, Alanna’s birthstone. “Gorgeous.” Alanna touched it. “I love it.”

“Turn around, and I’ll put it on you,” Fiona said.

Her cool fingers touched the back of Alanna’s neck. Alanna touched the chain and held it while her friend fastened the necklace. The cross hung in exactly the right place for the dress’s neckline. She hugged her friend. “Thank you, Fiona. It’s lovely.”

Fiona smiled. “It’s a beautiful bride you’ll be making.” She tapped on her lip. “The police detective is outside wanting to speak to you.”